


Birthday Blues

by JJ1564



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday Presents, Drunkenness, Gen, Pie, Rufus's Cabin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-21 12:09:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6051115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJ1564/pseuds/JJ1564
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Big Pretzel birthday challenge on Livejournal:  "I went to…’s birthday party, and I took…"</p><p>Dean went to Rufus’s birthday party, and he took a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Blues

“You lookin’ for a fist in that pretty face?” Rufus snarled at Dean, already regretting opening his cabin door to the kid.

Dean halted midway through his off-key rendition of Happy Birthday to you, and quickly handed over the bottle bag.

“I guess birthday gifts are okay?” Dean asked with a wry smile.

“Depends entirely on what…” Rufus pulled the bottle from the bag and his face rearranged from a scowl to a smile. “Johnnie Walker Blue.”

“Nothin’ else will do, eh?” Dean grinned. Rufus was touched that Dean had remembered, but he’d never tell the kid that.

“Damn straight,” Rufus turned his attention to Sam, who was carrying a box full of containers. “Whatcha got there, Sam?”

“Fried chicken, sweet potato and beans, all made by Bobby, for you, um, well…us, you mainly…” Sam replied, with the usual reverence he always showed to Rufus.

“Where is the miserable ol’ cuss?” Rufus glanced past Sam, almost expecting Bobby to appear.

“He’ll be right along shortly.” Sam explained, “He said to warm the food up while we wait for him.”

“Well then, get cookin’ kid.” Rufus gestured towards the small kitchen area, “I see you still ain’t had that haircut.”

“I have had it cut!” Sam protested.

“Yeah, he has,” Dean added with a smirk; “If he didn’t get it trimmed it’d be down to his waist by now!”

Rufus laughed and slapped Dean on the back. “Lemme find some glasses. You drinkin,’ Samantha?”

Sam pouted and looked like he was going to say no, but changed his mind to avoid any more slurs against his masculinity, saying “Sure, thanks.”  
Rufus felt a little guilty but he was sure the kid could take some good-natured teasing – after all he was Dean’s little brother. 

“So I take it Singer guessed where I’d be?” Rufus sat at the table and poured out three tumblers of whisky.

“Yep, he figured you’d be holed up away from the world.” Dean took the tumbler Rufus offered and sat down.

“He never did take a hint. I came up here ‘cause I don’t celebrate fuckin’ birthdays.” Rufus complained.

“That’s okay, we’ll celebrate, you can sit and glare at us.” Dean retorted.

“You got a smart mouth, boy.” Rufus tried to hide his smile. Damn kid had him pegged.

“So I’ve been told,” Dean took a sip of the whisky and sighed; “Damn, that’s so good.”

“Pure nectar of the gods,” Rufus agreed, taking sip too.

“You okay over there?” Dean asked Sam, who was clattering about by the old stove.

“Yeah, it’s all in the oven,” Sam replied. He sat down, taking his first ever sip of Johnnie Walker Blue...and spluttered and coughed.

“Too rich for you?” Rufus grinned, “That’ll put hairs on your chest, kid.”

“I…got plenty…of hair on my…chest…” Sam protested between coughs.

Dean got up and went to the sink, fetching a glass of water for Sam.

“There you go,” Dean patted Sam’s back.

Sam was saved from further embarrassment by the arrival of Bobby, who had stopped off for a couple of six packs of beer and another bottle of Blue, much to Rufus’s delight. There was also cherry pie for dessert, which Dean appreciated far more than Rufus.

“Pie!” Dean exclaimed, looking for all the world like a five year old for a moment.

“Bobby,” Rufus grunted, “I’d say good to see ya, but you’d know I was lyin’.”

“Many happy returns of the day, ya old grouch.” Bobby retorted, with a twinkle in his eye.

They sat around the small battered table to eat the birthday meal. Rufus knew him and Bobby bickered like an old married couple, but he was sure Sam and Dean could tell how genuinely happy they were to be together; they’d just never admit it.

“So, Rufus,” Dean leaned back in his chair, full of good food and feeling relaxed; “How old…”

“Shut your damned mouth or lose your damned teeth!” Rufus growled at him, immediately feeling a twinge of guilt at making Dean flinch. He was just touchy about his age and it was one secret he was gonna keep til the end.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to offend,” Dean held up in hands in apology.

“Hell, even I don’t know how old he is,” Bobby broke the tense silence. “He could be another fuckin’ Methuselah for all I know!”

“Meth-who-sala?” Dean asked, eyebrows raised.

“Methuselah, the oldest man in the Bible, lived to nine-hundred or something.” Sam explained.

“Well, I ain’t that fuckin’ old!” Rufus griped, and then decided to issue a challenge, “and I ain’t too old to drink you three under the table.”

“Wanna bet, Rufus-salah?” Dean rejoined, and Sam glanced at Dean like he’d lost his mind.

“You’re damned lucky I like you, boy,” Rufus chuckled, making both brothers visibly relax.

Later that night, Rufus had almost proved his point. Sam had passed out first, his head lolling against Dean’s shoulder. Dean had lasted longer, but was now snoring softly, leaning against Sam.

“They’re good kids, Bobby,” Rufus slurred. He eyed the almost-empty second bottle mournfully. “And they can damn well drink, I’ll give ‘em that, ‘specially that Dean.”

“They take after their daddy for that,” Bobby sighed, “not to the same level John did though - so far, anyhow.”

“Here’s to John Winchester and absent friends,” Rufus raised his glass.

“To John, and absent friends,” Bobby echoed. He tipped his glass to Rufus, adding, “And here’s to you, now, what did Dean call ya? Oh yeah, here’s to you, Rufus-salah!”

“Fuckin’ kid,” Rufus grumbled, but couldn’t hide his smile.


End file.
